


Little Maid

by Anonymous



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Coming Untouched, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Name-Calling, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slight Insecurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tango likes Zedaph in a maid dress and itshows.
Relationships: Implied ZIT, Tango Tek/Zedaph (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 143
Collections: Anonymous





	Little Maid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HC_AnonA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HC_AnonA/gifts).



> I said fuck it and decided to write smut just because ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Also, you can rip chubby and insecure Zedaph from my dead hands.

He had been just trying it on, really. It was supposed to be for something - a prank? A practical joke? Zedaph can’t quite remember, but he hadn’t known that Tango would be home so soon. He hadn’t known that Tango would take one look at the dress, completely disregarding the flustered look on Zedaph’s face, would pick him up and carry him to the bedroom without any words said. Ha hadn’t  _ known _ , but that’s not to say Zedaph  _ minded _ .

* * *

'You’re so pretty like this', Tango’s hand is on his thigh, fingers skimming the skin just below his skirt, the touch making Zedaph shiver slightly, purple eyes half-lidded and shining with unshed tears. He is straddling Tango’s lap, leg muscles straining and shaking, the thigh-highs starting to slip due to the light sheen of sweat gathering on his skin. Tango moves the hand on his leg to his hip, the black silk of the dress bunching beneath rough fingers and he lets out a slow breath, trying to keep the sounds just at the back of his throat in, but Tango reaching for Zedaph’s neck and trailing kisses from his jaw to the sensitive skin behind his ear isn’t helping.

'D-don’t say that-', Zedaph whispers, keening and tensing up as Tango’s other hand moves to his backside, squeezing the soft flesh in his palm. 

'Mmmhhh, but you  _ are _ ', Tango murmurs against his skin and Zedaph can feel the grin that is stretching across his lips, the slightest hint of fangs brushing against his neck. Zedaph squirms, the hand on his arse keeping him in a state of perpetual tension and  _ arousal _ . He grips Tango’s shoulders as he attempts to rock himself in his lap, erection painfully hard at this point, but the movement leads to him discovering that he isn’t the only one getting worked up over this. There’s a bulge in Tango’s pants and a small moan escapes his lips as he grinds against it, the sound bouncing off of the walls.

' _ God,  _ so pretty', the grip he has on his hips turns bruising as he thrusts up, his clothed hard-on brushing against Zedaph’s balls and making him keen, brows drawing together and eyes slipping shut.

'Please, I-', he tries to speak, but his voice gets caught in his throat as Tango moves both hands to his arse, spreading him open and, now, Zedaph regrets his lack of underwear, the cold air hitting his entrance feeling way too damn good right now, ' _ Please _ , Tango…!'

Tango hums and grinds against him, fingers digging into soft flesh and  _ kneading _ . 

'Please what, Zed?', and just like that, he moves in to kiss Zedaph, fangs scraping his bottom lip and, as Zedaph opens his mouth to let out a high-pitched mewl, Tango uses the opportunity to push his tongue in, circling Zedaph’s own tongue, running it against the insides of his cheeks and, all in all, making the arousal in Zedaph’s stomach feel even more intense. He squeezes his thighs and Tango keeps grinding into him, except the movements start slowing down considerably. Zedaph whines at the loss.

' _ Please. What. Zed _ ', he punctuates every word with another thrust and Zedaph feels the heat inside him so close to peaking, dick twitching from beneath his skirt and his hole clenching on nothing.

'I- Don’t m-make me… Say it…', Zedaph manages to whimper, his and Tango’s lips almost touching. His face is so red that he feels like he is just going to explode at any moment. Tango grins and, in a flurry of movement, Zedaph finds himself pinned to the bed, arms above his head, his wrists caught in Tango’s palm as his free hand settles on one of Zedaph’s spread knees. With a squeak, Zedaph realises that the position puts everything beneath his skirt on display, which only serves to make him squirm more.

The bodice of the maid dress seems almost constricting as Zedaph’s panting intensifies, all of the small bows and little laces digging into his torso. And Tango is still pressed against him, his erection, though still covered,  _ why the hell is he still dressed _ , Zedaph asks himself with something akin to desperation, blushing even harder at his own thoughts, sliding against his entrance.

'Aw, are you embarrassed? Is my little  _ slut _ embarrassed?', Tango’s smirk widens, but his eyes, deep red and dark with desire, roam his body all the same. Zedaph closes his eyes at the sharp stab of arousal that runs through him at those words.

'‘M not-', he tries to say, but he feels Tango’s hand slowly moving toward his crotch -  _ God, yes, right there,  _ **_please_ ** \- and Tango forgoes touching his straining cock entirely, fingers skimming over his perineum until he can run a finger, slowly, across the tight ring of muscle he finds there and Zedaph  _ screams _ .

'Such a pretty little slut', Tango digs his finger inside and Zedaph strains against the grip on his wrists, but Tango is bigger than him and he just tightens his hold, moving his face down Zedaph’s chest until he can nose at his covered nipples. With a low growl, Tango pushes his teeth into the hem of the bodice and  _ rips _ it right off, fangs leaving a small, red imprint on Zedaph’s smooth, tan skin.

' _ My _ little slut', he continues and, with his whole upper body on display, Zedaph can’t help but attempt to hide his face in the pillow beneath him, not daring to look at Tango. He prefers keeping a shirt or something else covering his torso during sex, always has, but now he has no fabric barrier or the advantage of nighttime and it’s no secret that he’s quite a bit self conscious about how soft his stomach is and he really wants Tango to stop looking at him, oh God,  _ this is too embarrassing, he’ll want to stop, he _ -

There’s lips around one of his nipples and Zedaph’s face scrunches up as the action makes his flush extend to his chest and Zedaph can’t help but throw a glance towards Tango, surprised to meet dark eyes staring at him intently, and that makes Zedaph try to bury his face in his pillow even more. But Tango chooses that exact moment to curl his finger inside him and slowly start moving it in and out, in and out-

' _ Ngh, _ Tango…!'

There are fangs, sharp, but gentle, digging into his nipple, and then words muttered into his skin.

'You like that? You like me sucking your  _ tits _ ?', and it has Zedaph thrusting against Tango’s fingers, that last word. Zedaph bites at the pillow, feeling so warm all of a sudden because of a simple word, and he really feels like one, in that moment, he feels like a  _ slut _ -

'I-I like-... Please suck my-'

' _ Say it _ ', Tango’s voice is muffled against his nipple, but it sounds so rough and low that it makes Zedaph’s toes curl.

' _ Please _ suck my… My t-tits…!', and his voice is breaking, the heat in his stomach only increasing, but it is  _ worth it _ .

Tango switches to his other nipple and, finally, releases his hands in order to pinch at the wet and sensitive nub he’s left in order to lick at the other one, hands that immediately curl into Tango’s golden, sweat soaked hair, but Tango also pushes another finger into him at that exact moment, and the combination of a soft tongue playing with his nipple, sharp teeth scraping against the skin around it and two fingers pumping in and out of him  _ breaks _ the coil of tension that’s been building up for the last half an hour or so.

Zedaph comes and he feels like his entire world shifts just a little bit, his vision dotted with black spots and muscles tensing so hard it’s almost painful. His nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and he feels the ecstasy run through him and he can’t  _ think _ . Zedaph doesn’t even notice that he is screaming until Tango’s mouth, reluctantly, leaves his nipple in order to cover Zedaph’s own and kiss the soul out of Zedaph’s over sensitive body.

'Oh  _ shit, _ buttercup', Zedaph can barely hear it, the lustful, but somehow affectionate tone of Tango’s voice and it’s so hard to open his eyes, but when he does, he cannot help the droopy smile on his face at seeing the almost impressed look on Tango’s face, which turns into something more primal, something which makes Zedaph’s softening cock twitch painfully.

But then Zedaph feels a third finger join the first two inside him and, were Tango not looming over him, one hand still on his chest, pushing him down into the soft mattress, he would have jumped right of the bed, his whole body spasming at the overstimulation that sets his nerves aflame.

'Oh my  _ God _ , T-Tango, wait-!', but his words fall on deaf ears as Tango spreads his fingers inside him and claims his mouth in a kiss, his free hand wrapping around Zedaph’s throat and squeezing  _ just so _ . It’s not enough to do anything but induce slight dizziness, but it is  _ more _ than enough to make his eyes roll back with pleasure and to make him let out a choked moan.

'You love this, don’t you?', Tango groans against his lips, thrusting his fingers inside Zedaph roughly, spreading them when he pulls them out, Zedaph’s legs spasming at the action and his thigh-highs slipping further down his legs, ‘I wonder...’

But Zedaph can only barely register that Tango is talking to him, actually making  _ sense _ of the words is a lot harder than it would seem, especially with his cock still twitching with overstimulation and his brain becoming fuzzier due to the hand constricting his blood flow ever so slightly, and so all Zedaph can do is lay back and bite his lips to stop his moans, or at least attempt to.

‘I wonder if you could come just from my voice...’, a jab at his prostate almost crosses the line between pain and pleasure, but Zedaph can’t get enough of it, and he tastes blood as he tries to keep his voice under control. His eyes close at the almost electric feeling of that little spot inside him being gently rubbed and toyed with, but he is sure Tango is smiling down at him, can almost feel it when the man moves to whisper in his ear.

‘But I just- Tango, I  _ can’t _ -’, but there’s teeth scraping against the shell of his ear and Zedaph keens.

‘Shhh, just let me take care of you, ok, buttercup?’, and that pet name makes both his heart and his dick swell just a little bit, so Zedaph whimpers and goes back to biting his lips, the pain of digging into the raw lacerations he’d put there himself not really doing anything to stifle his arousal.

And suddenly, just like that, all point of contact disappear. He can no longer feel Tango’s breath just at the side of his face, the fingers slowly pull out, the drag against his sensitive insides one that Zedaph feels almost tempted to chase, thighs tensing and pulling together when there’s no longer a person pushing them apart, and the hand on his neck gives one last squeeze before disappearing.

Zedaph opens his eyes, teary purple meeting seething red and the hunger on Tango’s face is obvious. He fiddles with his own fingers, trying to get his breathing under control, but he can already feel his own member hardening and Zedaph can’t help but notice the bulge in Tango’s pants, straining against the seams. Zedaph’s blonde hair, darker with sweat, is spread around his head and the remains of his bodice are still strewn over his chest, which, now, without the warmth of another person hovering over him, erupts in goosebumps. Tango is sitting at the foot of the bad, mouth curling in a lazy smirk and he removes his vest, starting to unzip his own top, which makes Zedaph’s control over his own breathing slip even further away from his grasp. 

‘Be a good little slut and give me  _ show _ , won’t you, Zed?’, his tone is rough with arousal and, as the toned muscles of his torso come into view, Zedaph almost swallows his own tongue, even if he’s seen this particular sight millions of times, approximately. Tango has this propensity to just wander around naked around their bases and yet this sight still gets Zedaph’s mind reeling. 

Zedaph sits up, the skirt, stained on the inside with his own come, covering his lap and Zedaph grabs at the rags of what used to be his bodice, all the ribbons and laces hanging down uselessly, hands almost unconsciously covering his own chest.

‘I want...’, Zedaph swallows, averting his gaze, ‘I want to be good for you...’

His face feels so hot at this point that he  _ knows _ his cheeks are completely red, but that doesn’t change his own wants. They’d done this before, both Tango and Impulse, they had pushed him to orgasm with nothing more than words and, sometimes, soft touches that should  _ not _ have felt as good as they did, but usually that happened when they were making him hold his own ecstasy back, when they didn’t allow his pleasure to peak, but now he is  _ still _ riding on the tail ends of an orgasm and he is not sure he could come, not without the stimulation,  _ but he wants to be good for Tango, wants to be his- _

_ Wants to be- _

‘I love you’, Tango murmurs and, beneath the veneer of lust and ravenousness, there’s a softness that, even now, makes Zedaph  _ melt _ , ‘I love you so much, Zed.’

Tango isn’t moving towards him, but, by God, is he moving. He is finally undoing the fly of his pants and Zedaph would like to say that he isn’t staring at the hard shaft that comes into view because, apparently, Tango feels no need for underwear inside the house, he would like to say that isn’t salivating at the thickness of it. Tango is just above average length-wise, but he is always almost  _ uncomfortably _ wide inside Zedaph and Zedaph feels his hole twitch at the sight alone. Zedaph would like to claim all these thought as lies, but the burning feeling in his gut proves the contrary.

‘I love your smile and your pretty eyes’, by the time Tango speaks again, he is completely bare, truly a feast for the eyes and, were Zedaph not literally mauling his own lip right now, he would have moaned, ‘I  _ especially _ love the tears they spill when I spank you.’

And suddenly, all of the soft feelings that Tango’s gentle whispers had brought back to the surface get thrown on the backburner, because Zedaph can feel his belly tighten at the mental image of that.

‘God, you cry so beautifully when I do, and you moan  _ so _ sweetly, you know that?’, Tango grabs his own erection, watching Zedaph squirm as he squeezes himself at the base. Zedaph fists his own skirt, fingers trembling to touch himself,  _ but Tango said he should get off without touching _ , and his brows furrow. It’s almost like he can  _ feel _ the ghost of a hand rubbing his backside, the anticipation of a strike making Zedaph go a little cross-eyes with pleasure, but there’s nothing. Tango continues speaking.

‘Yeah, you go so sweet on me, on us, when we hurt you. Bet you would take anything we give, just to be touched, wouldn’t you? Oh, but you know what I love most, buttercup?’

Zedaph squeezes his thighs together and his fingers threaten to rip the black silk bunched beneath them.

‘I- Hngh...’, opening his mouth to respond is a mistake, Zedaph realises, as a moan echoes around them.

‘Mhhh, I  _ love _ it when I get to pound you into the bed’, Tango growls, his palms slowly moving up and down his dick, drawing a hiss from him. And Zedaph can just about see it, he is laying face down, hands held to his own back, his arse in the air, Tango behind him, gripping his hips so  _ hard _ that Zedaph knows they will bruise later, but that’s not what he focuses on, no, Zedaph can barely even  _ think _ with the cock buried to the hilt inside him, pressing against his prostate, moving roughly, pushing him up the bed with the force of the thrusts that turn his brain to mush, and he is crying, he is crying prettily for Tango, is keening his name,  _ squealing _ it, and-

Zedaph almost gasps at how much pleasure that image send through his body, his shoulders shaking and his panting a bit louder than he’d like, but Tango  _ goes on _ .

‘Love holding you down, watching how you stretch around me,  _ pretty slut _ ’, Tango chuckles darkly, hissing between the words and Zedaph  _ can’t, it’s too much _ -

‘Oh, and when I get to come inside you-’, he moans, low and dangerous and Zedaph’s heart beats like a hummingbird trapped inside his chest, his breathing not allowing enough oxygen into his brain, all of his muscles pulling his body taut-

‘I just  _ love _ stuffing you full, breeding you like a  _ bitch _ . And you are, aren’t you?’

The pleasure  _ hurts _ and Zedaph wants to claw at his own skin, his whole body feeling as though it had been set on fire.

‘T-Tango, I-’, Zedaph tries to speak, but he chokes on his own words, eyes slipping shut and teeth grinding together, voice almost hoarse due to his high-pitched moans, he can’t,  _ he really, really,  _ **_can’t_ ** -

‘My dirty bitch, my pretty slut’, Tango grunts, his grip around himself tightening, almost as though he himself is imagining wrecking Zedaph, just-

‘I am, I-I am your slut!  **Y- yours-!** ’, and Zedaph  _ screams _ , but just as he comes, just he falls over the edge, his voice gives out on him, leaving him to pull at his ruined dress as his dick painfully spurts against the inside of his own thighs, as the world fades before his very eyes, going black, leaving Zedaph at the mercy of his own body exploding with euphoria.

He thinks that he might have blacked out for a second, because when he returns to himself, Zedaph is on his back again, legs hitched over strong shoulders, Tango thrusting into him. His skirt must have been ripped off of him, is currently laying next to him, more threads than fabric, and there are bite marks over his legs, the puncture wounds being the result of sharp teeth and Zedaph can’t even  _ move _ .

His whole body feels like it’s been beaten down into this almost agonising state of lingering pleasure, muscles twitching every so often and voice too scratchy for anything other than some small, squaled ‘ah, ah, ah’s that he cannot quite keep back.

‘You were made for this, made for me, for us, weren’t you?’, Tango murmurs against his skin, the sound barely reaching Zedaph’s ears over the slap of flesh against flesh. He doesn’t think he can muster the strength for any words right now, feeling too detached from everything around him, floating in a space where all he knows is the rhythmic jolts of pleasure from Tango’s hammering into him, his hips pushing deep and hard inside Zedaph.

‘You’re so good, such a good fucking slut,  _ Zed _ -’

Zedaph smiles, his cock giving a valiant effort to twitch back to hardness, but all it manages is a few more weak spurts of white against his own stomach. He feels exhausted and overworked, but he knows Tango is close, so with all the force his body has left, he tenses up around Tango’s cock and Tango, damn him, he  _ smirks _ and groans as he fucks even harder into Zedaph, hands leaving his hips, sore spots that Zedaph knows will darken into bruises later left in their wake, only for one to wrap around his cock and the other around his neck again. 

‘One more time? For me?’, it almost sounds like he is begging, gravelly voice barely audible and the smile, tired and dizzy as it had been, turns into a grimace on Zedaph’s face as he pants. Sweat is dripping down his body, he’s too tired to even cling to Tango as he fucks him, he just lays there and, when the hand around his throat presses  _ just  _ right, when the hand on his soft cock squeezes and moves  _ just _ a bit too fast, Zedaph shrieks Tango’s name, and the last thing he feels before he passes out is Tango freezing up, a growl reverberating around the room, his insides flooded with his come, the last thing he  _ hears,  _ is-

‘Oh, fuck  _ yes _ , you’re so good, such a good boy, good  _ slut _ , f-fuck-!’

And Zedaph is gone.

* * *

When Zedaph wakes up, it’s to the gentle stroke of a warm wetted cloth against the backs of his thighs and to Tango humming a soft melody. In the background, he can hear the shower running, so Zedaph assumes that Impulse must have joined them while he was passed out. He doesn’t open his eyes yet, his mind feeling almost as sore as his body, but the aches that he feels extending to his  _ bones _ is one that makes Zedaph relax further into the hands cleaning him up. 

Finally, the cloth is removed and Zedaph sighs, the melody stopping for just a second before continuing. Tango cups his cheek and Zedaph lets out a soft mewl at the feeling of gentle lips meeting his forehead.

‘How are we, buttercup?’, Tango asks, voice low, but this time, instead of the undertone of lust, there’s only affection behind the pet name and it’s what makes Zedaph finally open his eyes. Red meets purple and the hand on his face lovingly caresses his jaw.

‘...Sore, but… Really good. ‘T was...’, Zedaph murmurs and Tango kisses his forehead again. Zedaph can feel the smile on his boyfriend’s face.

‘Too much?’, Tango offers and Zedaph blinks slowly, giggling softly.

‘Just enough’, he responds instead. Tango steps back and, had Zedaph enough strength, he’d cling to him, but as it is, all he can do is make grabby fingers at Tango and pout. Tango laughs a little.

‘Bringing you some water, don’t worry.’

Zedaph settles back down, turning to lay on his side, almost curling his body around one of the many pillows they have on their bed. And Tango keeps his promise, not a minute later holding a water bottle to Zedaph’s lips, who downs it gratefully. 

Tango is spooning him, mindful of the many aches that Zedaph will treasure for the next couple of days, one arm beneath his head and the other thrown over his waist and, even if Zedaph would usually mind any proximity to his midsection, with Tango whispering sweet nothings into his ear and his fingers splayed over his soft belly almost protectively, he just can’t find it in him to mind, and that’s how Impulse finds them when he is finished with his shower. He looks at them with the sort of love that cannot be put into words, that warms one up to their bones even in the coldest day of winter and Zedaph reaches out for him.

With a small laugh, Impulse joins his boyfriends, laying in front of Zedaph, his arms encircling both of them in a warm embrace, and that is how Zedaph falls asleep, cuddled between them, warm and aching and feeling so  _ loved _ that he almost wants to cry. But exhaustion has the final say and, with a small smile, Zedaph allows his dreams to take hold of him.

_ Maybe I should wear a maid dress more often, _ Zedaph finds himself thinking as he drifts off, even though he should probably get a new one, what with his former outfit having been  _ lovingly _ ruined.

**Author's Note:**

> If I have to write all the 'Zed gets fucking wrecked' fics, I will. I have enough projection to do so.  
> -Anon A.
> 
> PS. I made an account, the one this is gifted to.


End file.
